


Fierté

by Hermaline75



Series: 30 Day Challenge Sequels [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bottom Thor, Class Differences, Hate Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, Unhealthy Relationships, or at least trying to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he freed aristocratic Loki from prison and fled with him, revoltionary Thor assumed they would live in England as ordinary, working class people.</p><p>Loki had other ideas and can't wait to show off his rescuer to the landed gentry. Whether his rescuer likes it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fierté

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first follow-up to a chapter from my 30 day porn challenge, a sequel to [Corsets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5243417/chapters/12096218).
> 
> Sadly, no corsets in this one.

He might have known Loki would have friends in England.

He might have known that Loki would speak English.

In fact, he would have guessed that the second he'd fulfilled his purpose and got Loki across the Channel that he would be abandoned.

And yet here he was.

His plan for them to settle as ordinary merchants in Britain was abandoned when they stepped off the ferry. Loki had swept him away, swept him up into all this.

The unfamiliar clothes itched almost as much as the weighty gazes of Loki's friends. He was an exhibit to them. A new fascination. Could he truly be like them, could he fit in here?

Not while he couldn't understand them.

"Does anyone here speak French?" he growled into Loki's ear.

"Of course they do. Some of them rather excellently."

"Then please can we use it that I might join in discussions?"

"The language of the Jacobins? No, we may not."

He turned away. Thor frowned around the salon. Just a little while ago he'd been sure of his future in the Republic. And now he was far from home, pinched and pushed and forced to submit to the curious looks of the very people he despised and had fought against.

They had taken him in. He wore their clothes, he slept in their beds, he ate their food, he rode in their carriages. But he would never be one of them. And sooner or later he'd be flung from this gilded cage. Once Loki had tired of him.

A cough from his left snapped him out of his reverie. It came from a small woman, pretty, the kind he had seen paintings of in the manor houses they had ransacked at home.

"Hello," she said. "You looked alone."

He blinked at her. "My friend said my language should not be used. Don't trouble yourself over me."

She frowned slightly. "Apologies, my French is not so good as others. But is hard in a foreign language."

"It is hard in a foreign country."

He hadn't meant to be rude. It was typical of him, reacting before he thought. She was merely trying to be friendly after all. They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes before the young woman took a deep breath.

"Is it true? That you rescued him from the jaws of the guillotine and fought off the guards?"

Ah, so she was just like the others after all, interested only in the tale. He was grateful to speak to someone new in his native tongue though so he decided to respond.

"Is that the story?" he asked. "What exactly do they say about me?"

She seemed almost nervous. "Well... You saved him on the day of his killing. And you fought to free him. At great danger."

Thor turned his back on Loki, deliberately paying the young lady all his attention.

"Do they say why I did it? Why I betrayed my people and my country?"

She smiled. "You realised the error of your ways. Once he spoke to you, you knew you did wrong."

Of course. Of course they would give him a political epiphany. Of course Loki would portray him as a mindless brute until saved by exposure to a right-thinking aristo. That was the only possible explanation for his change of heart.

And none of them knew about the sweat-soaked nights they spent together, the marks he left on Loki's back, the way they sinned together.

The times he thought of wrapping his hands around that perfect throat and correcting his mistake.

He almost lashed out at the touch on his shoulder.

"Thor," Loki purred, that voice that made his knees weaken and his heartbeat increase, even as he hated it. "I need you to settle a debt."

"A debt?"

Loki laughed. "I'm sorry. I meant a bet. Too much English today. I need you to come outside and wrestle a man."

Thor sighed. "No, Loki. Enough. I will retire. Excuse me."

He didn't make it as far as the door before Loki caught him again.

"Thor, you _will_ do this for me," he hissed.

"Why?"

"Because I wish it."

Thor scoffed. "You are jealous that I spoke to someone else. That's why you came to distract me. That's why you won't teach me enough English to get by. You want to keep me silent."

"I have no issue with you talking to Miss Foster. Why would I care that she wants to practice her languages on you? The poor girl is lonely, her very name means 'unwanted child'."

"It does not. Stop lying to me. I will not let you use me in this way. Remember that I could have left you to bleed. Remember I could have done what I wished with you when I took you from prison. Still can."

Loki did not seem to consider this a threat in any way. He smiled and leant forward.

"I want to show you off," he whispered. "I want the women to swoon and the men to sweat. And then this evening, I want to take you to my bed and make a husband of you."

"Stop. You are not my wife."

"Am I not? Do I not please you? Are you not devoted to me? Do you not burn and tremble for me? Do you not crave my touch?"

His lips were close enough that his breath played across Thor's skin. If he came just a little closer...

Loki stepped back, making Thor stumble slightly.

"Fight for me," Loki whispered.

Thor nodded helplessly.

\---

He couldn't pronounce the name of his opponent properly. The syllables were unnatural in his accent. It seemed he was an army officer, a man who had climbed the ranks. Loki looked on him with some disdain.

They didn't fight properly to start with, grappling together, testing their strength. After a while it became clear that they were rather evenly matched. Grapples became more forceful, more charged. 

Thor grew hot and stepped away to remove his shirt. He wasn't expecting the sound of disapproval blended with delight from the small crowd. His face burned and he sought Loki, finding him looking pleased and proud. He was enjoying showing off his rescuer. His tame citoyen. His property.

The man, Rogers, pulled off his garment to match. Thor nodded at him, grateful for the show of solidarity.

They went back to it, falling to the floor now, properly wrestling in the dirt. Thor revelled in finally being able to let loose, to feel alive and strong and...

He suddenly realised he was relishing the fight for a different reason. Their skin rubbed together, chest to chest, strong hands gripping and striking and touching.

Thor pinned his opponent, straddling his waist, seeing his eyes widen as he struggled. And Thor wanted to let go, loosened his grip, let the man tip him on his back. He arched his spine, imagining this man holding him down, enveloping him in strength and power, their flesh meeting...

Loki was yelling. The man moved off him and it was all Thor could do not to whine at the loss. He accepted the offered hand, pulling him back to his feet, letting the grip linger for just a second.

His shirt hit his chest, Loki growling at him to cover himself up. He seemed furious, eyes flashing. He spoke rapidly, a smile on his lips but nowhere else, and Thor got the feeling he was excusing them.

He let himself be shoved down the corridor to Loki's chamber, the door slammed behind him.

"Did I win?" he asked, letting the challenge drip from his lips.

Loki scowled at him. 

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" he said icily.

"Notice what?"

Loki locked the door and crossed the floor instantly, his nose almost brushing Thor's as he gripped both his wrists.

"I saw the way you looked at him. Like you would beg for his cock to split you open. Like you wanted his hands on you and his mouth on..."

Thor kissed him hard, mainly to shut him up. He didn't have to listen to this. Loki nipped at his lips and shoved him backwards onto the bed.

"I keep you," he said under his breath. "I feed you, I clothe you... You need me."

He threw himself on top, forcing Thor's hands up above his head.

"This what you want? Is this what you want, strong man? Want someone to hold you down and take you?"

Thor was angry. Angry and aroused. It was a strange combination. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to punch Loki in the face or spread his legs and beg. Maybe both.

"You think you can have me?" he managed.

Loki laughed. "I think I've had you many times. And you liked it."

Thor struggled to free himself, just to have his hands loose to drag Loki firmly against him.

"Then take me again. If you think you can."

The bite wasn't unexpected, but it did hurt. Thor groaned, squirming desperately.

"You're mine," Loki said against his flesh.

And that was a step too far. Thor snarled and flipped them, holding Loki down to whisper in his ear.

"I saved you. Your life is forfeit to me. So I will take my pleasure as I see fit. And you will lie still."

He tore of their clothes, revealing Loki's unblemished skin, not a single mark of work or hardship on him. Thor thought of his own scars, his hungry childhood, his hatred for the eyes of the English gentry.

But this was his. And he meant to have it.

The oil was in a drawer, not concealed exactly, but might as well be. Thor sloshed it over his fingers as Loki wordlessly spread his legs, panting, pupils blown.

"No," Thor said, slapping one of his thighs. "Stay still."

Loki moaned as Thor reached between his own legs, going too fast, too deep. His mouth fell open, bearing down against the burn, waiting for it to stop hurting just enough.

The very second he was ready saw him perfunctorily slicking Loki's cock so he could sink down upon it. He controlled the pace, controlled everything, took what he wanted, both hands gripping the headboard for leverage.

Loki bucked up suddenly, grinning at the surprised cry he won from Thor's throat.

"Look how far you've fallen," he said. "Remember how you squirmed beneath me that first time? And now you cannot contain your lust."

"And what of you, my fine gentleman?" Thor retorted. "Lying beneath a commoner, letting a citoyen use your flesh?"

"You speak as though this does nothing for me. Go ahead, worker. Labour over me. I'll come all the same. I always do."

Thor growled, one hand frantically working his cock, intending to climax and leave Loki wanting. But his efforts seemed to have the opposite effect, cries and praise flowing out of him.

"That's it, clench around me. Keep going, keep going, that's right. I feel you tightening. Oh, Thor... Just a little more, a little harder..."

He couldn't pull off in time. He felt it, the flood of seed marking him from the inside and, damn his treacherous body, he was seconds behind.

His body flopped against Loki's, his spend smearing between their torsos, panting gently as Loki lifted his head up by his hair.

"So out of breath, my love? I have barely broken a sweat."

Thor stared angrily into his laughing face, his rage fading to background irritation, unable to burn so hot when his body felt pliant and sleepy. He couldn't even resist when Loki kissed him softly, running loving fingers through his hair.

"I knew I made the right choice when I decided to keep you, husband."

Thor wrapped a hand around his neck in warning, feeling his laughter vibrating.

"Be calm, Thor. I only tease you because you make it fun. You know I mean no harm."

He let his fingers be pried away, let himself be soothed with caresses, his will dissolving even as he tried desperately to cling to it. And still he couldn't say, didn't know why he allowed Loki this hold over him.

"Demon," Thor mumbled, a familiar set of insults. "Witch. Devil."

"Yours."

There was no argument against that.


End file.
